Whiskey Tender Book Review Novels & Stories

he asks. Shrugging, I step further inside. "I figured you wouldn't send a drive if you had changed your mind," I explain. He chuckles, setting one of the glasses down on the bar. “You always this confident?” Taking my time, I walk over before grabbing the drink and swirling the liquid before taking a slow sip. The burn is smooth and expensive. It's the sort of whiskey that you keep for years, only have one glass here and there. “You always this persistent?” I shoot back.

"Let's get something to drink Madine, after my exhausting ceremony I feel more thirsty than usual." The cellar was full of liquors and wine and I pretended to look around. "Do you have a particular drink in mind?" Madine sat down on the long bench situated at the corner. "No, Your Majesty. Anything is fine as long as I can have them with you." I searched for something we could drink without ice or lemon. Then my eyes caught the branded whiskeys on the shelves. I took one and opened it smelling the hard caramel, vanilla, oak, and spice. It reminded me of her as I inhaled it and brought it to my lips for a taste.

she instructed and the young bartender shifted his gaze at Vivian and politely asked, “What drink should I get you ma’am,. We have tequila, booze, whiskey….” “Whiskey,.. a whiskey should do,” Vivian replied, whole he nodded curtly before heading to the counter. “As I was saying… I’m quite selective about choosing friends. I’m quite free with you because I love your personality, your vibe, and your energy.” “Thank you,” Vivian replied, giddy with excitement. The bartender returned a while later with a bottle of whiskey. Vivian took it from him and emptied it into her cup before taking a sip out of it.

Two large tanned leather couches sat opposite each other in front of a centred fireplace. He used this area for winding down at the end of the day with a large glass of honey flavoured whiskey. Alpha Gray walked over to the well-stocked bar cart and poured a glass of the Whiskey. He usually wouldn't drink during the day, but he needed something to calm the uneasy feeling growing in his gut. He inhaled the liqueur's rich smoky and rubbery scent and swept the entire content. The smooth flavour of honey mellowed the warmth of the Whiskey with its touch of sweetness.

He poured a generous portion of the amber liquid into a gleaming crystal tumbler, releasing the alluring scents of oak and caramel into the surrounding air. With a fluid motion, he slid the glass across the counter towards Reynold, who effortlessly caught it, exuding confidence in his grasp. Expressing gratitude with a nod, Reynold lifted the glass to his lips and took a deliberate sip. The whiskey caressed his taste buds, its intricate and nuanced flavors captivating his senses. He relished the moment, savoring the exceptional taste that only a truly exquisite whiskey could offer. After a brief moment, Reynold placed the now-empty glass onto the counter, producing a firm and deliberate thud

I let the bubbles sit on my tongue, before swallowing them. I was always more of a whiskey guy. Always, no matter the circumstance. But I'm willing to make an exception. This time. This time I want to enjoy this gorgeous woman and her tastes. To be fair she can take her whiskey like a champ as well. I've never met a woman like her. She contradicts herself. She looks like a fucking angel and yet she downs her whiskey like it's nothing at the same time. She is like a woman after my own heart.

I did not say anything during the entire thing and just watched her quietly as she put on her show. I wanted to know just how sincere she was during our seven years of friendship. By the looks of it, I was too naive and mistook this venomous viper for a harmless pet. That was why I ended up dying so tragically in the previous cycle. “That’s fine. If you can’t help me, someone else will.” I did not stop smiling and dialed a number. The moment the call went through, the person on the other end asked anxiously, “Miss Nelson, have you managed to contact Joy?”

My boots carried me across the study toward the glass liquor cellar built into the wall. I opened the cellar, bypassed the cheap stuff, and reached for a bottle of whiskey that probably cost more than a semester at Mer College. The amber liquid slid smoothly into the crystal glass. I didn't rush. Behind me, Ryker's breathing sounded increasingly unpleasant. Every inhale was ragged; every exhale was a strained, desperate gasp. The room had become filled with the ugly sounds of a body failing itself. I took a slow sip anyway. The whiskey burned pleasantly down my throat.

I could hear the honking of cars, the bustle of people moving, and the chatter of voices rising up from the street below. I took a sip of my whiskey, feeling the smooth liquid burn its way down my throat. It was the only thing that seemed to give me any sense of relief from the anger and bitterness that had been building up inside of me. The taste of the whiskey was comforting, like an old friend who knew all of my secrets.

"Ms. Henderson's married to her work, alright. I'm her husband, and I barely catch a glimpse of her. She didn't get home until midnight yesterday, and by dawn, she was out the door again." Mentioning that morning seemed to hit a nerve. Macie's face went through a quick series of emotional changes, her guilt plain as day. Right then, the waiter came in with the drinks. Dressed to the nines in a tailcoat, he was the picture of elegance, like he had stepped right out of a medieval portrait. The ladies could not take their eyes off him. As he set down the wine, he shot Macie a sly wink, almost too quick to catch.